


when i see you again

by annadavidson



Series: that which shaped the century (a dragon age dual au) [10]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dragon Age AU, Dragon Age Dual AU, Dual AU, Dual Dragon Age, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 14:53:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10220693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annadavidson/pseuds/annadavidson
Summary: He remembered the sun on his face, the grass against his back, trees towering over him.Summary: Sylvas never thought he’d see Tamlen again. He’d prayed to the Creators many times for Tamlen to be safe, alive. But this wasn’t what he’d asked for.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written with the help of [NatureGirl202](http://archiveofourown.org/users/NatureGirl202/)/[bxtgrl](http://bxtgrl.tumblr.com/).

He remembered the sun on his face, the grass against his back, trees towering over him. He remembered it all like a dream he wished he could replay over and over. He remembered feeling healthy instead of sick. He remembered a face staring down at him, familiar, happy, _beautiful._ His heart fluttered, and he sat up, grinning up at that face. He remembered every detail about that face as if he could reach out and touch him again.

“Are you going to sit on your ass all day, _lethallan?”_ Tamlen teased him. As children, Tamlen had gotten _lethallan_ mixed up with _lethallin,_ and while he had since been corrected, the word had stuck.

Sylvas’ grin remained. “I was hoping you’d join me.”

Tamlen lightly chuckled. “We’re supposed to be hunting, _lethallan.”_

Sylvas reached up and took Tamlen’s hand, using it to gently pull him down on top of him. Their faces hovered inches apart. He could feel Tamlen’s breath, hot against his skin. He could see Tamlen’s eyes lowered, gaze stuck on his lips. For years they had been the best of friends, and he had been scared to change that. But he liked this change. He liked it a lot.

“I prefer when you call me _vhenan,”_ he whispered, eyes half-closed as he lifted his head up toward Tamlen’s. The next thing he knew, they were kissing and Tamlen was gently pushing him back down to the grass. He remembered the way Tamlen kissed, an impossible mixture of softness and pure passion. He remembered the way their hands roamed over each other – the way that Tamlen liked when he ran his fingers through his hair. He remembered it all as if it were happening again, as if he were reliving it.

But it was only a memory caught within a dream.

* * *

He awoke to the sound of shouts, of metal being drawn, of magic flaring up. He pushed himself to his knees and flew up the tent’s flap. Fear gripped him when he saw the darkspawn pouring into the camp. He stumbled out of the tent, grasping his bow and quiver. He staggered a bit when he first got to his feet, dizziness momentarily overcoming him. But Rendlin was there to steady him – he was always there.

He leaned against the dwarf until the dizziness subsided. He slung his quiver onto his shoulder and prepared the string on his bow. He met Rendlin’s gaze and gave a nod, letting him know he was fine. The dwarf hesitated, but then he gripped his own sword and shield and charged forward, joining the already started battle.

Sylvas took in a deep breath and slowly let it out, forcing himself to push the thought of his dream out of his mind. He needed to focus on the battle. He snatched an arrow from his quiver and notched it into place. He focused his mind on his target – a darkspawn heading straight toward Namera from behind her. Alistair was beside her, but both of them were preoccupied facing two darkspawn brutes. He waited for the darkspawn to get right within range and fired. The arrow smacked into the side of its head, and it tumbled to the ground at Namera’s feet. That earned him a grateful look from both warriors, to which he gave them a nod in return.

He started picking off darkspawn one by one, firing off arrows along with Sarabeth and Leliana. When a darkspawn got too close, he pulled out a dagger with one hand, the other still gripping his bow, and cut it down. He may have been weakened from the Blight, but his healing sessions with Wynne and Christian helped him keep enough strength to fight. He still had a dagger in hand when he heard shuffling behind him. He turned swiftly, moving to strike, but froze as his eyes settled on the darkspawn.

It didn’t look like the others – not fully corrupted, not fully changed. The clothing was familiar, _Dalish._ There were changes to the body, to the face, but he still knew that face. His breath hitched as recognition struck him like a blow. He dropped his dagger and bow. The creature in front of him looked pained, saddened. It looked like it was in agony. Its body shook as if held back only by whatever self-restraint it had managed to keep. There was a sword in its hand with a ragged blade, a darkspawn sword. But it… It wasn’t an _it_ but rather a _him._

 _“Tamlen,”_ Sylvas’ voice came out in a whisper, a desperate plead.

He remembered running around as children, playing hide and seek. He remembered always picking terrible hiding spots so Tamlen could find him. He remembered growing up and sparring, learning to hunt together. The way that whenever he looked to his side, Tamlen had always been there, always ready with a smile or a joke. He remembered how things had gotten awkward between them when he had realized his feelings for his childhood best friend, his _lethallin._ He remembered the first time they had kissed. He’d been terrified that Tamlen would push him away, but instead Tamlen had pulled him closer and kissed him as if they were the only two people in the world.

He remembered running into those three _shemlans_ in the forest. They had been terrified as they had told them about the cave and its ruins, about the demon lurking there. He remembered the two of them striking the _shemlans_ down with their arrows. And he remembered those ruins. He remembered approaching the mirror, feeling uncertain but curious. He remembered speaking out too late…

He had prayed, pleaded, _begged_ the Creators to give him his _vhenan_ back. He had begged them to take him instead, to give Tamlen another chance to live a life. But this… He hadn’t meant like this. He hadn’t meant for Tamlen to live as a… as a _ghoul._

He hadn’t realized he’d started crying. He didn’t notice that the darkspawns’ numbers were dwindling. All he saw was Tamlen. And while he knew he should have felt relief, all he felt was pain and grief.

 _“Lethallan,”_ Tamlen’s voice was hoarse, strained. The word was forced out and sounded as pained as he looked. It tore at Sylvas’ heart. It felt familiar yet foreign, hearing him sound like that.

Sylvas took a hesitant step forward. “Tamlen – _vhenan,_ I… I…”

“Please… Stop me,” Tamlen pleaded. The sword in his hand shook. Speaking was an obvious struggle. “Don’t want… To hurt… _You…”_

 _“Sylvas!”_ Rendlin’s voice shouted from behind him. The other darkspawn were scattered on the ground, dead. The only one that remained was standing right in front of the Dalish archer. Rendlin’s protectiveness spiked. He’d lost his brother. He wasn’t about to lose another person he cared about.

Sylvas saw Sarabeth take aim with her crossbow. Fear clawed its way back into him. He moved quickly, coming to stand between her arrow and Tamlen. He watched her eyes widen, her mind registering him in the crossfire soon enough that she didn’t pull the trigger.

“Are you nuts?!” she demanded. She didn’t know what he did. She didn’t know who the ghoul was, but even if she did, he wasn’t sure if she wouldn’t pull that trigger. _“Move!”_

 _“Stay back!!”_ he practically screamed at all of them. _“Don’t. Touch. Him.”_

He could see the shock and confusion mixed together on her face. He saw it mirrored on the rest of his friends. And he saw the moment that Sarabeth, who he kept his gaze on, staring her down, registered that he was crying. Her eyes darted over him, quickly searching for any signs of injury, but away from the fire’s light, in the dark of night, even if she could see better than the humans in their group, she couldn’t be certain.

“Sylvas,” Rendlin’s voice spoke up again, several paces behind him. “Sylv, what’s going on?”

His heart fluttered at the dwarf’s nickname for him. He only allowed Rendlin to call him that. He thought about how close they had grown since he had first stumbled upon him and Paige on his way to Ostagar to find the Grey Wardens. He remembered the nights they had spent together, how he had curled up at the dwarf’s side and fallen asleep many times in his arms. All Rendlin had known was that he had lost someone important to him, someone he had loved. He had never pushed for more information, never pushed for them to become closer, become more intimate. The whole time, he had allowed Sylvas to set the pace – he had allowed Sylvas to continue to mourn.

He hadn’t told anyone about Tamlen. They had found out when they had gone in search of Andraste’s ashes. None of them had pushed him for any information, though they had made it clear that they didn’t think he should blame himself. But all he did was blame himself.

 _“Lethallan,”_ Tamlen’s cracked voice brought him back to reality. The ghoul fell to his knees, the sword slipping from his hand.

Sylvas moved quickly, dropping down in front of him. He was already sick with the Blight. He didn’t worry about getting too close to his former lover. He placed a hand over Tamlen’s heart.

“I’m here, _vhenan,”_ he tried to sooth him, but that pained expression didn’t waver.

“The song,” Tamlen forced out. His hands reached up and pressed over his ears as if trying to tune out a sound. “In my head… It… _calls_ to me… Sings to me… _I can’t stop it!”_

“The Archdemon,” he heard Alistair say. He spoke apologetically. “Sylvas… He’s a darkspawn. I’m sorry.”

Sylvas shook his head, tears running down his face. “N-No! You’re _Tamlen!_ We – We can help you. We can find a cure.”

That only made Tamlen look more pained. “It… It wants me… To hurt you… Don’t want to… Hurt you…”

“Y-You won’t,” he insisted, “You’d never hurt me. You can – You can _fight this._ I _know_ you can.” He reached up, cupping Tamlen’s face in his hands, making the ghoul look at him. His voice came out as a whisper, a quiet, strained plea. _“Please don’t make me lose you again.”_

Tamlen’s hands shook as if he was physically resisting the urge to put those hands around Sylvas’ neck, resisting the urge to hurt his former lover, his childhood best friend. He reached up, shakily taking Sylvas’ hands in his own. He brought their hands down to their laps. Sylvas felt something pressed into his hand and looked down to see Tamlen curling his own fingers around the dagger he had dropped earlier. He stared at the dagger, his stomach twisting into a sickening knot. His eyes shot up to Tamlen, and he furiously shook his head.

 _“No,”_ he forced the word out, his voice cracking. “I-I won’t – I _can’t._ Don’t ask me to do this, _vhenan.”_

Tamlen reached up, cupping one hand against his cheek. He forced a smile. “All will be… Okay… Please… _Please…”_

Sylvas was sobbing by now, clutching the dagger against his chest, his face leaned to the side, into Tamlen’s gentle touch. “I wish we’d never found that cave.”

“Me too,” Tamlen spoke, meeting Sylvas’ sad gaze with his own. “I always… Loved you… _Vhenan.”_

“I love you too, _vhenan,”_ Sylvas choked out against his tears. He sat forward, resting his forehead against Tamlen’s. They both closed their eyes. He held the back of Tamlen’s head with one hand, the other clutching the dagger in a shaking hand. His whole body shook with grief. He plunged the dagger forward. Tamlen took in one last breath and fell limp against him.

Sylvas pulled the dagger out and dropped it. His arms came to wrap firmly around Tamlen, his hands clinging to him. He took in several quick breathes, trying to calm himself, trying to stop crying, but it didn’t help. He broke down. He cried out, letting out a scream that tore at his throat. All his grief, hurt – all of his pain poured out. He crumbled down, Tamlen in his arms. He didn’t stop screaming until his throat was too sore, too raw to make any more noise. He continued to sob until he made himself sick and continued even after that.

Eventually Alistair was forced to take the body from him. He tried to fight, but arms wrapped firmly around him, and he recognized Rendlin’s voice in his ear. He curled up in Rendlin’s arms, clinging to him as if he was afraid of losing him too. Someone sat down next to them – _Namera._ She didn’t say anything, at least nothing he registered, but she stayed by him, making it clear that she was there for him. He faintly registered Sarabeth kicking the dagger away – he didn’t want that dagger back. He wanted it thrown into a lake, never to be seen again. Leliana was crouched by them, her hand on his shoulder. Wynne was there too. He could see her mouth moving, hear a soothing tone, but her words refused to reach him. Not even Rendlin’s soothing words reached him.

Some of the others didn’t seem to know what to do, how to comfort him. Alistair returned and whispered something to Christian, who turned partly away from the group to whisper a reply back to the warrior. He guided Sten and Alistair toward the direction of the fire. Sylvas tore his eyes away and buried his face against Rendlin’s chest. He continued to sob until he exhausted himself. He didn’t want to fall asleep. He didn’t want to dream about Tamlen, to remember the good times because those memories ached even more now. But he couldn’t keep his eyes open forever. He cried himself to sleep in Rendlin’s arms, silently praying to the Creators that for once he wouldn’t dream.

He never wanted to dream again.

**Author's Note:**

> Like/reblog on Tumblr [here](http://magicrobins.tumblr.com/post/158260465145/when-i-see-you-again).


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